18-09-2024, 09:34 AM
As Anita steps into the bustling office, her heart pounds like a jackhammer. The familiar sights and sounds feel surreal after yesterday's illicit encounter. She makes her way to her desk, hyperaware of every glance from her coworkers. Do they know? Can they somehow sense her shame... and her lingering arousal? She catches sight of her boss through his office window. Their eyes lock for a brief, electrifying moment. A flood of conflicting emotions surges through her - desire, guilt, fear, excitement. She quickly averts her gaze, cheeks burning.
Throughout the morning, Anita struggles to focus on her work. Every time her alpha male boss passes by, her body tenses, torn between wanting to shrink away and longing for his touch. She notices him scanning the office periodically, his brow furrowed with concern. The memory of that mysterious presence yesterday hangs over them both like a sword of Damocles.
Around midday, Supratim approaches her desk. Anita's breath catches in her throat.
"Ms. Dey," he says, his voice carefully professional. "I need the quarterly reports on my desk by 3 PM. And please schedule a meeting with the team to discuss the upcoming presentation."
"Yes, sir," Anita replies, proud of how steady she keeps her voice. "I'll have those to you shortly."
As he turns to leave, Supratim leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "And Anita, you look sexy today.” Her boss’s words sends a shiver down her spine. She nods imperceptibly, acutely aware of the other employees milling about.
Throughout the day, they maintain this facade of normalcy. But beneath the surface, tension simmers. Every accidental brush in the hallway, every shared glance across the conference room, crackles with unspoken desire and fear. Anita finds herself jumping at small noises, paranoid that someone will expose their secret. She notices Supratim keeping his office door open, maintaining a professional distance. Yet she can feel his eyes on her when he thinks no one is looking, burning with barely-restrained lust. As the workday draws to a close, Anita's nerves are frayed. The constant push-pull of desire and caution has left her exhausted. She gathers her things, preparing to leave, when her boss emerges from his office. His eyes lock onto her, sending a jolt of electricity through her body.
"Ms. Dey…", he calls out, his voice carefully neutral. "A moment in my office, please. We need to discuss the specifics of our upcoming business trip and your presentation."
Anita's heart leaps into her throat. She nods, acutely aware of the curious glances from her coworkers. "Of course." she replies. As she follows Supratim into his office, Anita's mind races. Her palms are slick with sweat, and she can feel her pulse pounding in her ears. The familiar scent of his cologne hits her as she passes through the doorway, bringing a flood of vivid memories from yesterday's encounter. Supratim closes the door behind them, the soft click sounding like a thunderclap in Anita's heightened state. She's hyperaware of every detail - the fading sunlight streaming through the windows, the gentle hum of the air conditioning, the way Supratim's shirt stretches across his broad shoulders as he moves to his desk.
"Please, have a seat," he gestures to the chair across from him. Anita swallows hard, forcing the thought away as she sits down. Her body aches in the most delicious way as she lowers herself onto the chair. The rough encounter from yesterday has left its mark - her thighs are sore, her breasts tender, and there's a persistent, throbbing reminder between her legs. She shifts uncomfortably, the fabric of her pants rubbing against sensitive areas.
"Now," Supratim begins, his voice all business. "About the trip..."
As he speaks, Anita finds herself in a state of exquisite torment. Every shift in his posture, every gesture of his hands, sends a thrill through her body. She's torn between wanting to maintain professionalism and longing to recreate yesterday's passion. The air feels thick with unspoken tension. Anita struggles to focus on her boss’s words, her mind constantly wandering. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, trying to alleviate the growing ache between her thighs. The movement sends a jolt of both pain and pleasure through her still-sensitive body. It catches her boss’s attention, and for a moment, his professional mask slips. His eyes darken with unmistakable desire, and Anita feels a rush of heat flood her body. But as quickly as it appeared, the moment passes. Supratim clears his throat and continues discussing the presentation details. Anita nods along, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - guilt, excitement, fear, and an overwhelming, shameful arousal.
As the meeting draws to a close, Anita finds herself both relieved and disappointed. The office has fallen silent, most employees having departed for the day. In this newfound privacy, a palpable shift occurs in Supratim's demeanor. His professional facade softens, replaced by a smoldering intensity that makes her breath catch. He leans back in his chair, eyes roaming over her with unconcealed hunger.
"You know, Anita…", he begins, his voice low and intimate, "yesterday brought back some... vivid memories. Do you remember our time in college?"
Anita feels her cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal coursing through her. "Sir, I don't think—"
"Supratim." he corrects gently. "We're alone now. No need for formalities."
She swallows hard, averting her gaze. "Supratim, please..."
He continues, undeterred. "I couldn't help but notice how... responsive you were yesterday. It reminded me of our first time together, all those years ago. How shy you were at first, but then..."
Anita squirms in her seat, memories flooding back unbidden. The way his hands had felt on her body, both then and now. The shameful thrill of surrendering to desire.
"Then, I saw the change in you." Supratim murmurs. "From hesitant fiancée to eager lover. The way you moaned my name, the way you begged for more..."
"Stop.", Anita whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice. Her body betrays her, nipples hardening visibly beneath her blouse.
Supratim leans forward, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Tell me you haven't thought about it all day. Tell me you haven't ached for my touch."
Anita stands abruptly, her legs trembling. "I... I should go.", she stammers, gathering her things with shaking hands.
Supratim rises as well, moving around the desk. He doesn't touch her, but his presence looms large, intoxicating. The air between them grows thick with tension as Anita fumbles with her belongings, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. As she turns to leave, Supratim smoothly interposes himself between Anita and the door. She finds herself mere inches from him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Her eyes dart nervously to the exit, now blocked by his imposing figure.
He steps even closer, invading Anita's personal space. His fingers brush against her arm, ghosting over the fabric of her blouse. "You know, I couldn't help but notice your choice of attire today. Hiding something, are we?"
Anita's skin prickles at his touch, her body betraying her despite her attempts to maintain composure. She's acutely aware of how her tailored pants cling to her curves, wondering if Supratim can sense the heat emanating from between her thighs. Her breath hitches as her boss’s hand travels up to her collar, his thumb tracing the edge where it meets her neck. She can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, igniting sparks along her skin.
"For our trip," he continues, voice low and commanding, "I have some... requirements for your wardrobe."
His hand slides down to her waist, fingers splaying possessively across her hip. "First, I want you to bring that little black dress. You know the one - backless, with a slit up the thigh. Perfect for our business dinners."
Anita swallows hard, remembering the dress. It's far more revealing than she'd usually wear to a work function. Supratim's other hand comes up to cup her face, thumb brushing her lower lip. "For daytime, pack that white blouse with the deep V-neck. The one that shows just a hint of... everything." His eyes drop to her chest, and Anita feels exposed despite her conservative attire.
"And for the beach…", he whispers, leaning in close, his breath hot against her ear, "bring that red bikini. The one that ties at the sides. I want easy access."
Anita gasps, a shudder running through her body at his boldness. Supratim chuckles, his hand sliding from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. "Oh, and one more thing," he adds, his lips brushing her earlobe. "That lacy black lingerie set I bought you in college. I know you still have it."
With that, he releases her, stepping back with a smirk. "Have a good evening, Ms. Dey. I look forward to our trip."
Anita stands there, trembling and flushed, her mind reeling from Supratim's demands and the lingering sensation of his touch. As she gathers herself to leave, she can't help but wonder what she's gotten herself into - and why the thought of it all makes her pulse race with anticipation. As she stumbles out of Supratim's office, her mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Her body still tingles from his touch, and his demands echo in her ears. She feels a potent mixture of shock, arousal, and trepidation. Part of her is scandalized by her boss’s audacity - how dare he make such inappropriate demands? She's engaged, for god's sake! And he's her boss!
Yet another part of her, a part she's ashamed to acknowledge, thrills at his boldness. The thought of wearing those revealing outfits for him, of being on display, sends a shiver of excitement down her spine. She remembers how it felt to wear that lingerie for him in college, how his eyes had devoured her. Guilt washes over her as she thinks of her fiancé. What would he say if he knew about Supratim's demands? About her reaction to them?
As she takes a taxi home, Anita's mind races. She imagines herself in that little black dress, Supratim's eyes roving over her exposed skin during a business dinner. She pictures herself in the red bikini on a Puri beach, Supratim's hands untying those precarious knots. The rational part of her knows she should refuse, should report Supratim's behavior to HR. But the memory of yesterday's encounter, the lingering ache between her thighs, makes her hesitate.
By the time she reaches home, Anita has made no decision. She's torn between propriety and desire, between her commitment to her fiancé and the intoxicating pull of Supratim's dominance. Arijit hasn’t arrived home yet, which gives her some relief. As she steps into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her body, Anita can't help but wonder: will she have the strength to resist? Or will she give in to the temptation, consequences be damned?
Anita is still lost in her conflicted thoughts when she hears the front door open. Arijit's voice calls out, "Honey, I'm home!"
Throughout the morning, Anita struggles to focus on her work. Every time her alpha male boss passes by, her body tenses, torn between wanting to shrink away and longing for his touch. She notices him scanning the office periodically, his brow furrowed with concern. The memory of that mysterious presence yesterday hangs over them both like a sword of Damocles.
Around midday, Supratim approaches her desk. Anita's breath catches in her throat.
"Ms. Dey," he says, his voice carefully professional. "I need the quarterly reports on my desk by 3 PM. And please schedule a meeting with the team to discuss the upcoming presentation."
"Yes, sir," Anita replies, proud of how steady she keeps her voice. "I'll have those to you shortly."
As he turns to leave, Supratim leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "And Anita, you look sexy today.” Her boss’s words sends a shiver down her spine. She nods imperceptibly, acutely aware of the other employees milling about.
Throughout the day, they maintain this facade of normalcy. But beneath the surface, tension simmers. Every accidental brush in the hallway, every shared glance across the conference room, crackles with unspoken desire and fear. Anita finds herself jumping at small noises, paranoid that someone will expose their secret. She notices Supratim keeping his office door open, maintaining a professional distance. Yet she can feel his eyes on her when he thinks no one is looking, burning with barely-restrained lust. As the workday draws to a close, Anita's nerves are frayed. The constant push-pull of desire and caution has left her exhausted. She gathers her things, preparing to leave, when her boss emerges from his office. His eyes lock onto her, sending a jolt of electricity through her body.
"Ms. Dey…", he calls out, his voice carefully neutral. "A moment in my office, please. We need to discuss the specifics of our upcoming business trip and your presentation."
Anita's heart leaps into her throat. She nods, acutely aware of the curious glances from her coworkers. "Of course." she replies. As she follows Supratim into his office, Anita's mind races. Her palms are slick with sweat, and she can feel her pulse pounding in her ears. The familiar scent of his cologne hits her as she passes through the doorway, bringing a flood of vivid memories from yesterday's encounter. Supratim closes the door behind them, the soft click sounding like a thunderclap in Anita's heightened state. She's hyperaware of every detail - the fading sunlight streaming through the windows, the gentle hum of the air conditioning, the way Supratim's shirt stretches across his broad shoulders as he moves to his desk.
"Please, have a seat," he gestures to the chair across from him. Anita swallows hard, forcing the thought away as she sits down. Her body aches in the most delicious way as she lowers herself onto the chair. The rough encounter from yesterday has left its mark - her thighs are sore, her breasts tender, and there's a persistent, throbbing reminder between her legs. She shifts uncomfortably, the fabric of her pants rubbing against sensitive areas.
"Now," Supratim begins, his voice all business. "About the trip..."
As he speaks, Anita finds herself in a state of exquisite torment. Every shift in his posture, every gesture of his hands, sends a thrill through her body. She's torn between wanting to maintain professionalism and longing to recreate yesterday's passion. The air feels thick with unspoken tension. Anita struggles to focus on her boss’s words, her mind constantly wandering. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, trying to alleviate the growing ache between her thighs. The movement sends a jolt of both pain and pleasure through her still-sensitive body. It catches her boss’s attention, and for a moment, his professional mask slips. His eyes darken with unmistakable desire, and Anita feels a rush of heat flood her body. But as quickly as it appeared, the moment passes. Supratim clears his throat and continues discussing the presentation details. Anita nods along, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - guilt, excitement, fear, and an overwhelming, shameful arousal.
As the meeting draws to a close, Anita finds herself both relieved and disappointed. The office has fallen silent, most employees having departed for the day. In this newfound privacy, a palpable shift occurs in Supratim's demeanor. His professional facade softens, replaced by a smoldering intensity that makes her breath catch. He leans back in his chair, eyes roaming over her with unconcealed hunger.
"You know, Anita…", he begins, his voice low and intimate, "yesterday brought back some... vivid memories. Do you remember our time in college?"
Anita feels her cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal coursing through her. "Sir, I don't think—"
"Supratim." he corrects gently. "We're alone now. No need for formalities."
She swallows hard, averting her gaze. "Supratim, please..."
He continues, undeterred. "I couldn't help but notice how... responsive you were yesterday. It reminded me of our first time together, all those years ago. How shy you were at first, but then..."
Anita squirms in her seat, memories flooding back unbidden. The way his hands had felt on her body, both then and now. The shameful thrill of surrendering to desire.
"Then, I saw the change in you." Supratim murmurs. "From hesitant fiancée to eager lover. The way you moaned my name, the way you begged for more..."
"Stop.", Anita whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice. Her body betrays her, nipples hardening visibly beneath her blouse.
Supratim leans forward, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Tell me you haven't thought about it all day. Tell me you haven't ached for my touch."
Anita stands abruptly, her legs trembling. "I... I should go.", she stammers, gathering her things with shaking hands.
Supratim rises as well, moving around the desk. He doesn't touch her, but his presence looms large, intoxicating. The air between them grows thick with tension as Anita fumbles with her belongings, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. As she turns to leave, Supratim smoothly interposes himself between Anita and the door. She finds herself mere inches from him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Her eyes dart nervously to the exit, now blocked by his imposing figure.
He steps even closer, invading Anita's personal space. His fingers brush against her arm, ghosting over the fabric of her blouse. "You know, I couldn't help but notice your choice of attire today. Hiding something, are we?"
Anita's skin prickles at his touch, her body betraying her despite her attempts to maintain composure. She's acutely aware of how her tailored pants cling to her curves, wondering if Supratim can sense the heat emanating from between her thighs. Her breath hitches as her boss’s hand travels up to her collar, his thumb tracing the edge where it meets her neck. She can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, igniting sparks along her skin.
"For our trip," he continues, voice low and commanding, "I have some... requirements for your wardrobe."
His hand slides down to her waist, fingers splaying possessively across her hip. "First, I want you to bring that little black dress. You know the one - backless, with a slit up the thigh. Perfect for our business dinners."
Anita swallows hard, remembering the dress. It's far more revealing than she'd usually wear to a work function. Supratim's other hand comes up to cup her face, thumb brushing her lower lip. "For daytime, pack that white blouse with the deep V-neck. The one that shows just a hint of... everything." His eyes drop to her chest, and Anita feels exposed despite her conservative attire.
"And for the beach…", he whispers, leaning in close, his breath hot against her ear, "bring that red bikini. The one that ties at the sides. I want easy access."
Anita gasps, a shudder running through her body at his boldness. Supratim chuckles, his hand sliding from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. "Oh, and one more thing," he adds, his lips brushing her earlobe. "That lacy black lingerie set I bought you in college. I know you still have it."
With that, he releases her, stepping back with a smirk. "Have a good evening, Ms. Dey. I look forward to our trip."
Anita stands there, trembling and flushed, her mind reeling from Supratim's demands and the lingering sensation of his touch. As she gathers herself to leave, she can't help but wonder what she's gotten herself into - and why the thought of it all makes her pulse race with anticipation. As she stumbles out of Supratim's office, her mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Her body still tingles from his touch, and his demands echo in her ears. She feels a potent mixture of shock, arousal, and trepidation. Part of her is scandalized by her boss’s audacity - how dare he make such inappropriate demands? She's engaged, for god's sake! And he's her boss!
Yet another part of her, a part she's ashamed to acknowledge, thrills at his boldness. The thought of wearing those revealing outfits for him, of being on display, sends a shiver of excitement down her spine. She remembers how it felt to wear that lingerie for him in college, how his eyes had devoured her. Guilt washes over her as she thinks of her fiancé. What would he say if he knew about Supratim's demands? About her reaction to them?
As she takes a taxi home, Anita's mind races. She imagines herself in that little black dress, Supratim's eyes roving over her exposed skin during a business dinner. She pictures herself in the red bikini on a Puri beach, Supratim's hands untying those precarious knots. The rational part of her knows she should refuse, should report Supratim's behavior to HR. But the memory of yesterday's encounter, the lingering ache between her thighs, makes her hesitate.
By the time she reaches home, Anita has made no decision. She's torn between propriety and desire, between her commitment to her fiancé and the intoxicating pull of Supratim's dominance. Arijit hasn’t arrived home yet, which gives her some relief. As she steps into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her body, Anita can't help but wonder: will she have the strength to resist? Or will she give in to the temptation, consequences be damned?
Anita is still lost in her conflicted thoughts when she hears the front door open. Arijit's voice calls out, "Honey, I'm home!"
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